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Xavier, 1995.Xavier
Sutter and Jones Apartment,
San Francisco
August 6, 1995
My dad was coming home that same day from a funeral; one of his uncles had passed away. I decided to go pick him up from the airport and tell him. He began telling me what a beautiful ceremony it was because his uncle had lived a long full life and everyone in his family came. I couldn't help but think that my funeral was next. The only difference was that my life was just beginning. After I told him, he was speechless and didn't say a word the entire way home. I could tell he was in a lot of pain.
The next day, I went to see my doctor at the health clinic to get more informed about living with HIV. I really knew nothing about the daily life people living with HIV had. I always assumed that it would be miserable based off those horrific pictures you see of someone with KS or someone half dead on their bed. I spent the next year educating myself about it. I read everything from medical journals to alternative therapies and honestly, that's what's made me understand this better and carry on with my life.
I was also quickly connected to counseling and support groups around town, but the people who went to these groups were advanced in their progression with AIDS and HIV. A lot of them were angry and bitter, and rightfully so. They were dealing with how to pay for the outrageous costs of their medical bills and complaining about how sick their medications made them, and the complications they had in making funeral arrangements for themselves. I understood why they felt this way, but at the same time, this was all new to me at 23 years old. I just couldn't relate yet to these issues. No one there was my age or recently diagnosed as I was. I ended up more scared and worried about my future than comforted or supported in these groups so I stopped going.
I really didn't want to continue with school anymore, but I decided to finish the year in order to have a reason to get out of the house. However, last Spring, another depression hit me and it hit me hard. I started feeling like HIV was making me a social outcast. I was too afraid to get too close to anyone for fear that they'd find out about my status. I felt like a shadow amongst the 50,000 students that walked that campus. I would see people active, laughing, discussing such trivial things like shopping and traveling and parties. These discussions were so out of my realm. I was lonely. I wanted to feel connected again. I wanted to laugh and talk to someone that would take me away from all this.
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